


My Work of Art

by tothebatcave53



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Photography, Rope Burn - A Yuri!!! on Ice Shibari Zine, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shibari, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothebatcave53/pseuds/tothebatcave53
Summary: Yuuri shows Victor how he can still be a beautiful work of art, even if he isn't skating on the ice anymore.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56
Collections: Rope Burn - A Yuri!!! on Ice Shibari Zine





	My Work of Art

It’s their first competition with Victor stuck on the sidelines. He’s retired, having made the choice to quit before the strain on his body led him to a serious injury. It’s the right thing to do, Victor knows this deep down, but something in Victor’s chest still twists tight while Yuuri skates across the ice. He wants to be out there, he wants to create and surprise.

Of course Victor is proud of his skater, as any coach would be, especially when Yuuri takes gold by a wide lead. And of course Victor is even more ecstatic for his fiance, for all the work that Yuuri has poured into his performances to shine as brightly as Victor’s always known he could.

But that feeling snars around his heart and squeezes with a painful emptiness that he’s lost the ability to combat. He breaks down on their flight home, curled into Yuuri’s side as that emptiness mixes with guilt over being jealous, at not letting Yuuri truly celebrate his victory to the fullest extent. 

Yuuri holds him tight to his chest, stroking his hair and pressing gentle little kisses to his forehead. 

Victor expects Yuuri to be upset with him when they come home but Yuuri simply lays his gold medal down on the counter like it doesn’t matter at all. Instead he takes Victor’s hand and tugs him into their bedroom, their fingers laced together.

“Yuuri I-”

“Vitya.” Yuuri leans forward, tipping their foreheads together. “You don’t need to apologize. Please don’t feel bad; it’s okay.” 

Victor trembles in Yuuri’s arms again, tears filling his eyes. 

“Shh.” Yuuri runs his finger over Victor’s cheek, wiping the moisture away. “I know it was hard to not be out there today and I also know that you’re proud of me, you don’t have to be one or the other.”

“I didn’t think it would be so hard,” Victor admits. The truth cracks the tightness in his chest, a floodgate opening. “I don’t know how to not be out there and give up that feeling of creating art.”

Yuuri wraps his arms around Victor’s shoulders, letting him pour out all the emotions that had been building up. When he finally slumps with exhaustion Victor feels light again, the love Yuuri gives him so selflessly helping to lessen all of the negative feelings inside.

“I have an idea that I want to try, to make you feel as special as you are. Do you trust me?”

Victor nods, letting himself be guided to the bed.

It starts slow, Yuuri stripping him of his shirt first. Lips press into his shoulders, fingers massage at tight muscles until Victor is a puddle.

“I know how you felt out on the ice, on display for so many people to marvel at. You were a living work of art, so beautiful. They couldn’t touch you, only look because that’s what you do with a beautiful piece of art. You put it on display so that it can be appreciated.”

Victor lets Yuuri lay him back, his pants worked down and his socks peeled off. Those talented fingers continue to rub, working down over his legs until they reach his feet. A low moan tumbles from between his lips when a kiss is placed to the sole of his foot. 

“Just because you aren’t out there skating doesn’t mean you aren’t still the most beautiful work of art. It’s just that you only have an audience of one instead an audience of thousands.”

“You’re the most important-” Victor tries to protest, suddenly worried. He moves to sit up but a hand to his chest keeps him laying still. 

“I know Vitya, I was never worried about that.” Yuuri’s thumb brushes back and forth slowly across his skin, goosebumps erupting under the soft touch. 

“Then what?”

“I want you to feel as special as you did out on the ice. I want you to know what a work of art you still are.” 

Victor follows Yuuri’s other hand as he pulls soft blue ropes out of a bag sitting next to their bed. The rope is silky as Yuuri lays it on his chest, the fibers brushing against a nipple as they slide slightly against one another. The shuddering breath he pulls in at the feeling causes them to shift more. 

“I’m going to turn you into a work of art, the same way you helped me become a work of art on the ice.”

Victor whimpers at the intensity of Yuuri’s gaze, at the spark of arousal that spreads through his stomach with the idea Yuuri has thought up for him.

“Safe word?”

“Piroshki.”

“Good boy.” Yuuri drags his fingers down Victor’s chest, watching the small shudders that run through him. “Feet together.”

Victor obeys, curious what Yuuri has thought up. They’ve played a little like this before but this is new, Yuuri surprising Victor once again.

Yuuri starts slow, focusing on Victor’s ankles. The rope wraps around it slowly, locking his calves and ankles together. He pauses every few moments to check the tightness, slip a finger in between Victor’s skin and the rope before continuing lower. Victor lifts his head enough to watch, fascinated. Yuuri weaves a soft pattern across the tops of his feet, like a net, Victor thinks before they rope drags down over the sole of one foot and then the other.

It's odd, to not be able to move them but it feel comforting too. Yuuri designed it just for him and that alone makes Victor slip back to the bed, feeling safe and cared for. The rope drags over his skin, smooth with just the tail ends flicking at him as Yuuri pulls them through loops.

“Sit up.”

Victor obeys, lifting himself slowly. He feels light, airy. The rope wraps in a loop around his middle and pulls snug. Over his shoulders, back over his chest. The rope slips under and then over, it tugs to the right and then the left. The soft blue braided cord feels like an extension of Yuuri, a hug around his entire being.

“Vitya. Eyes open please.”

Victor didn’t know when he’d even shut his eyes, he’d simply let himself feel under Yuuri’s talented and steady hands.

Yuuri takes up his hands, kissing each palm before putting his wrists together to bind with that same slow, patient and loving touch. Victor watches, fascinated as the rope wraps slowly over his pale skin, hiding it away from view.

“You’re complete.”

Victor tilts his head back, silver hair spilled across his face.

“Lay still as I position you as I want and then stay put. I’m going to take photos so you can see how gorgeous you are.” 

Yuuri lays him back down, turning Victor’s hips to the side. He pushes his bound arms over his head, stretching them out while curling his knees up toward his chest. 

Again Victor closes his eyes; listens as the camera shutter snaps once, then again. He drowns in the feeling of being looked at. Before it was countless pairs of eyes on him, faceless people that swept into his life on flecks of shaved ice to witness the creation of his art.

Now those eyes are a warm honey brown that look at him like he holds all the stars in the sky. The same eyes that look at him like he is the only thing to matter in the world. The man above him had tossed aside his gold metal like it meant nothing, like it hadn’t come with hours of pain and practice. He ignored all of that to make Victor feel cherished and special again.

“Yuuri!” Victor gasps softly after the camera clicks again. “Yuuri, yuuri please!”

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” Yuuri leans in and Victor opens his eyes again to look up at the man he loves so very much, that puts aside everything just to try to give him back a taste of something that doesn’t truly matter.

“My heart, because I love you so much.” Victor lifts his bound arms, looping them over Yuuri’s neck to gently tug him down for a kiss. 

Yuuri breaths a laugh against his lips. “Cheesy. I love you too Vitya. Do you want me to untie you and we can look at the pictures?”

“No, let me stay like this a little longer.” 

Yuuri’s love won’t end when the ropes come off but having them there feels like a permanent promise that Yuuri’s love is real. He is Yuuri’s work of art, on or off the ice.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the zine Rope Burn. This was so much fun to write and turned out much more tender and soft than I had originally planned. Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
